Death Angels
by ZDrive
Summary: What happens to exorcists who have died without fulfilling a promise on the battle field? They become Death Angels…and Allen Walker has joined their ranks.
1. Chapter 1

**Death Angels**

**Summary: What happens to exorcists who have died without fulfilling a promise on the battle field? They become Death Angels…and Allen Walker has joined their ranks.**

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Pairing: Yullen, Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker

Rating: T

Category: D. Gray-Man

Angst/Romance

WARNING: If you don't like Yaoi…why are you here? Boy/Boy! And I now own anything except plot and a few OCs!

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**Prologue: **

Allen sometimes- okay, most of the time- though he could seriously kill Kanda Yuu with a smile on his face.

Laughing.

Hysterically.

_Seriously._

Now, everyone knows how Allen Walker's personality really is. He always looks on the bright side, always smiling, even if it's fake, and looking out for the ones he loves, no matter what.

But when it came to Kanda…fucking Kanda Yuu…something just tweaked, twisted, and snapped. He was arrogant, rash, unsympathetic, uncaring…and so damn frustrating!

Was it _too hard_ to ask for him to say his name just once?! Or how about not pass a rude comment. Or be mean, like, in _general_. I mean, come on! Seriously!

_Seriously._

And, was it too hard to ask for him to just look at him with some sort of emotion besides disgust or…um, blankness?

Was it too hard for him to look at Allen in a way that showed he was affectionate, in some way?

…like how he occasionally looked at him?

God, he was pathetic.

But he was worth it. He was worth the sweat, the blood, the tears. He was worth everything, as Allen quickly found out.

Including the sickly yellow, long finger hand as large as a small boat shoved into his chest and stomach and out through the other side. And the shark-like teeth that were buried too deep into his throat for him to breathe without choking on his blood which clogged his mouth, throat, and lungs, spurting out in sprays of dark red and trickling out his mouth and even his nose in thick, heavy streams. And the long, tubular gray tongue which slipped and slithered slimily down the gaping, bleeding hole in his throat to greedily drink his blood while releasing toxins to prolong his painful death. _And_ his shattered ribs, snapped spine, and ripped organs. The only organ in his body that wasn't damaged severely was his heart, and even then it had been nicked sharply.

And Allen couldn't help but smile as his blood seeped freely through his teeth because if he hadn't stepped in front of the Japanese man in time it would have been _him, _skewered and limp beyond repair.

Because he was so damn happy.

He was dying, he realized, even when he vaguely felt the deranged, gruesome Akuma being ripped off him and hacked into bloody pieces by a pissed off samurai.

But it was for _him. So it didn't fucking matter._

So it wasn't a real surprise he was still smiling, even with the man he loved kneeling over him, shouting profanities and cradling him in his arms as he cussed and yelled in Japanese. His shirt and jacket were soaked thoroughly with his blood in seconds, soon smelling heavily of a metallic, coppery scent. But Allen could still smell the faint whiff of lotus blossoms, soba, and rain that just screamed of Kanda, and it was all he could really care about.

He just wished Kanda didn't look so devastated, and it was kind of funny, because of _course _he had to be teetering at the very edge of death to finally get him to look at him in a way that wasn't irritation, disgust, or nothing. But now, he also kind of wished it would go away because I hurt to see him in so much pain, and even the white-hot agony so thick and plentiful coming from his wounds it was practically pouring out of his pours in invisible waves didn't rival the pain he felt for causing Kanda this pain.

"I'm…s-sorry…"

He was breathing in only his blood, and he gagged, twisting his head away to vomit bile and blood and even a bit of his intestines to the earth. Kanda told him to shut up but he wouldn't, he couldn't. He couldn't tell Kanda he loved him, not when he was dying in his arms, not when he already put him through enough pain. But he could tell him _why_. Why he was so content on dying for Kanda's sake, so he could live and fight.

"Why?" He heard Kanda say, and he smiled a happy, yet bloody mess up at him, pushing through the pain and the choking, stifling blood that gushed forth mercilessly.

He almost chuckled. He never thought his own blood would aid his death. It just didn't seem possible, or thinkable.

"…My…"

He lifted his hand shakily and touched the elder man's cheek lightly, dragging his fingertips down his tan skin, leaving a wet smear until it came to rest tenderly on his shoulder.

"…most…"

He forced himself to smile as he looked at the angry, firm Kanda, who struggled to keep a mask over his emotions.

"…pre…cious…"

The last bit of strength drained away from him as his hand slipped limply from Kanda's shoulder, leaving trails of red in its wake, as Kanda's expressionless face crumpled to one of shock, horror, but most of all, devastation. And then it turned into defiant fury, but that was what Allen was used to, and he was happy to embrace the fact that at least he could see the fire in those impossibly blue, cobalt eyes as he felt his very soul slip away.

He sunk into the darkness, finally letting go, hearing Neah sigh and whisper a final farewell to his nephew as he too disappeared into oblivion.

"…_How __**dare**__ you…!"_

_Kanda's voice…_

"_You-! You promised! You little bastard, it's hard enough to keep promises in a war, but fuck that__**, you**__, Allen __**fucking**__ Walker, __**never**__ break your promises!"_

_Kanda, goodbye…wait-…what promise…?_

"_You little liar-!"_

_I'm so sorry…what promise…? Tell me._

"_Don't die…Moyashi."_

_What…_

"_Son of a bitch."_

…_promise?_

….

"…Allen?"

**Allen Walker was dead.**

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**They are the darkest soldiers of God,**

**Embracing life and death,**

**Donning wings of bone and robes of white,**

**Wearing masks of black and suits of darkness,**

**All the while freeing souls with a touch of the curved silver blade,**

**Of their scythe,**

**To free the souls of the children of God.**

**So it shall be written…**

**Death Angels.**

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**Name: Allen Walker**

**Parents: Cassidy Knox (prostitute) and Reginald Bishop (officer)**

**Guardians: Mana Walker and General Marian Cross**

**Guardian Angel: Gabrielle**

**Born: Christmas day, Dec. 25****th**

**Death: July 13****th**

***Promises: Unfulfilled **

***Promise to: Kanda Yuu**

***Occupation: Exorcist**

_**Special assignment. New orders from the Father. New position of duty until promise fulfilled- Death Angel. Team- Puck (D. B. )and Mercy (K. T. T.)**_

_**-Leon Liger, Secretary of the D. A. D., Death Angel Division**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Death Angels**

**Summary: What happens to exorcists who have died without fulfilling a promise on the battle field? They become Death Angels…and Allen Walker has joined their ranks.**

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**I no own D. Gray-Man or it's characters, only this plot. Because if I didn't own it, there would be crappy titles, Kanda and Allen would be head over heels for each other while not breaking out of their character, and I wouldn't update that much on it...and then it would eventually fail, because I am not a genius, but the true creator and author of D. Gray-Man is, so, she/he (no one really knows, to be honest, but rumor has it that the author is in fact a 'she')rocks! Oh, and look at my other D. Gray-Man stories, please, much appreciated. Read, enjoy, fav, follow, and review!**

**Oh! And congrats to the first Guest who reviewed and guessed correctly the promise that Allen made to Kanda!**

Pairing: Yullen, Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker

Rating: T

Category: D. Gray-Man

Angst/Romance

WARNING: If you don't like Yaoi…why are you here? Boy/Boy! And I now own anything except plot and a few OCs!

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_**Previously, on Death Angels...**_

**Name: Allen Walker**

**Parents: Cassidy Knox (prostitute) and Reginald Bishop (officer)**

**Guardians: Mana Walker and General Marian Cross**

**Guardian Angel: Gabrielle**

**Born: Christmas day, Dec. 25****th**

**Death: July 13****th**

***Promises: Unfulfilled **

***Promise to: Kanda Yuu**

***Occupation: Exorcist**

_**Special assignment. New orders from the Father. New position of duty until promise fulfilled- Death Angel. Team- Puck (D. B. )and Mercy (K. T. T.)**_

_**-Leon Liger, Secretary of the D. A. D., Death Angel Division**_

**...**

**...**

**...**

**Chapter 1:**** The Heart**

Kanda Yuu didn't cry, and that was a fact.

Maybe he had done it once or twice when he became a second exorcist with Alma, but after that, his scarred heart hardened and his tear ducts dried like a drop of water in the desert. He hadn't shed a tear for any of the Finders (who dropped like flies in a vat of poison gas), or Lala, or the fallen Akuma, and not even Daisya. Though he had felt a great amount of disappointment and loss for his fallen comrade whom he had known since he was young, no matter how stupid or annoying, it was accepted instantly, because he knew that everyday people were dying and that's just how the world works. The world keeps on turning, never stopping for anyone, except maybe Jesus but he didn't know 'cause he hadn't been born in that God-forsaken time.

Allen cried.

He cried for the Finders, for the doll named Lala, for Daisya, for the people he didn't even know, for the Akuma who constantly tried to kill him without mercy. He cried tears for those who couldn't cry, or for those who didn't have time to just give in to cry.

He cried for Kanda.

And, for once in his life, Kanda cried, too. He cried for the loss of life of another. For Allen.

His nose burned and his eyes stung, and before he knew it, he was holding the lifeless body of Allen Walker tightly and bawling like a pathetic weakling, and he just couldn't stop. It was like his tear ducts had come to life, or at least had been slowly gathering the amount of salty tears that he hadn't shed for the loss of life, like the ones he hadn't shed for Daisya.

He had never hated himself so much, except for maybe when he killed Alma.

This was all Allen's fault. It was Allen's fault that he had to throw himself without reserve in front of Kanda and take that fatal blow, a blow that was the most goriest, bloodiest thing he had ever seen that made his head spin and made his stomach lurch so hard he wanted to throw up. It was all his bloody fault that Kanda had been so precious to him, because that's exactly what he said. He sacrificed himself to save something precious, and that certain precious being was Kanda himself.

Kanda had been called a lot of things in the years that he lived as a second exorcist, and maybe before that too, when he had died in a field of lotus blossoms by that Level 4. But not one of them, he knew, was precious. He had never been even remotely precious to somebody, or so he thought, until Allen looked up to him with that smile Kanda had always known to be on his face even in death, gray eyes soft and tender, as he touched his face like he was touching the delicate surface of china.

'Precious', he had said. 'My...most...precious.'

His smile was positively heart breaking.

Kanda could have sworn his heart broke, could have sworn it finally cracked, and when it did, there was so much damn pain it effected his long-ago dried up tear ducts and let them flow freely and uncontrollably.

It was all Allen's fault that he made the great Kanda Yuu cry without reserve.

His fault that it hurt him so much.

He slowly let the limp, pale body down to rest on his knees. He lifted one hand to wipe at the trickle of water from his eyes on his cheeks. When he pulled it back and looked down at his knuckles, he saw smears of watery red, the smell of old metal filling his nostrils. He raised that same hand to his right cheek, feeling the slick wetness of water and tears and sweat and blood.

He dropped his eyes back to the dead boy- God, he couldn't even say his name in his_ mind_- and rested his hand over the younger's still chest. No heart beat. His blood roared in his ears with the beat of his own heart, alive, pumping blood and life through his veins, underneath his flesh, skin, muscle, and sinew. His mind cast back to when he was screaming profanities at the boy mindlessly as he died in Kanda's arms, remembering hazily that he had said something about the promise that seemed so meaningless in a war such as this one, as well as holding such importance he didn't know it had until the boy died.

Whatever happened to that promise they made on a whim in the middle of the night, after getting to a village containing innocence too late, where all the people were slaughtered screaming and crying right in front of them, where they themselves were nearly swamped from the amount of Akuma and escaped with deep wounds and, thankfully, the innocence...that promise...it was never fulfilled.

Kanda had been furious, yelling and cussing at Allen, even though the boy hadn't done anything wrong and had fought just as hard. Allen had exploded and retaliated with surprising vigor, and soon it came to harsh, fast blows. When they finally collapsed, bloody, bruised, and exhausted, they lay on their backs and stared at the ceiling in silence, their heartbeats slowing, the heat in their blood cooling, their tempers calming.

When it was midnight, both of them still awake, they made random conversation, even cracked a few small jokes and chuckles and smirks. Then came the soft blanket of calm and silence, until Kanda finally broke it, asking;

_Do you think we're going to really survive this whole war?_

Allen had cocked his head to look at him from the corner of his eye, before saying confidently;

_Yes. You won't die, I won't die, Lenalee won't die, Lavi won't die...and many, many more. I won't let it happen, no matter what._

_And you?_

There was less confidence in his voice now as he spoke quietly, almost hesitantly;

_I...I will not die. Not until the Earl and Noah are gone and destroyed, not until the chained souls of the Akuma have been freed. _

_And if you do die?_

_Then I'll find a way to live again, to fight, even in death._

A smirk. _Brave words. Promise, Moyashi?_

It was supposed to be mocking, but it actually came out with only tinged with mockery, turning curious and genuine.

_Promise. Bakanda._

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_**Liar.**_

_**...**_

_**...**_

_**...**_

The moment Lenalee felt her Dark Boots tighten and twist painfully around her feet, light flickering feebly, she knew something was wrong.

That something didn't remain a mystery for long when her Dark Boots twisted again so hard it snapped her ankle bone and stopped working all together, letting her plummet to the earth in dizzying circles. She was so stunned, when she opened her mouth to scream, her voice caught in her throat as she stared wide-eyed and horrified towards the quickly approaching ground.

"LENALEE!"

Lavi's horrified voice shot through her shock, and her scream came out in a high pitched rasp that left her throat red and raw. Her boots felt...dead. No longer heavy with the burden of an exorcists, of death, life, lies, pain, and sacrifice. Instead, it felt light, the soles of them no longer weighing her down, stopping her from going on a different path, from making her own way and having a hand in her life. It was freedom at the worst of times.

It terrified her.

Her boots had stopped working. And from Miranda's frantic sobbing and pleading, to Lavi's swearing, their innocence wasn't working either. That could only mean one thing...

Lenalee closed her eyes, tear drops dripping, and shrieked at the top of her lungs, "ALLEN!"

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Lavi watched, horrified, as Lenalee plummeted to the ground, her Dark Books not activating.

"Lenalee!" He cried, reaching out to her with his hammer. "Extend!"

How could a simple mission of going to Africa to obtain Innocence could go so wrong, he thought as he reached for his female friend. But then his hammer shuddered, jerked, and proved that the worst was yet to come. The light of his Innocence suddenly faded to nothing like a spark being crushed and smothered by an invisible gloved hand and soon he too, was falling. Though he knew that when he hit the ground it would only result in bruises and fractures, only one though struck deep.

_Their Innocence wasn't working. It was dead._

_The **Heart **was dead._

_..._

_..._

_..._

Miranda had felt helpess and useless thousands of times in her miserbale life, but never had she felt so out of control and helpless as she did now, watching her friends fall to the earth like limp rag dolls.

"Time...recorder..." she managed to choke out, stifling a sob. She cried out when a wave of electricity seared up her arm and spread through her boy when it failed to activate, her Innocence smoking and dark. She fell to her knees, trembling, the sudden urge to pull out her frazzled, burned hair impossible to resist.

Miranda Lotto began to sob like never before.

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Kanda looked up slowly from the boy's dead body, blinking and squinting at the feeble flickering of blue light from Mugen, extinguishing completely for a full minute.

He set the younger boy's body down and lunged for his sword, no longer feeling the presence of Innocence singing a song which he had not felt until it died all together.

He looked at the boy, then at his hand, and finally at his sword, the truth dawning on him.

"FUCK!"

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_...They will die._

_We need them. The world needs them. The heart..._

_Revive the heart..._

_...he must live to do so..._

_Do it..._

_Do. It._

_Hurry, Gabrielle! _

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Allen opened his eyes to a soft white light, and blinked. Hands trembling, he lifted one hand to feel his pulse in his pale neck, and the other over his heart. Tears streamed in silent, clear wet ribbons down his face and over his chin when he felt his heart and pulse beat and throb steadily beneath his flesh, the thin layer of skin over the small, minimal movement, so sweet, yet simple, was warm.

His heart...was alive...

_No_...HE wasn't alive. He could feel it, could feel that something had changed, that he was no longer in the land of the living. All he knew now was that just his heart was alive, in a sense that he couldn't explain, but could simply _feel_...

..._the_ **Heart **was alive.

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...

The glow and song of Innocence everywhere glowed and throbbed once again with his heart beat.

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**Okay, not going to lie, this was a bit of a filler chapter. The next will be the funeral and discussion of the Innocence's weird behavior aligned with Allen Walker's death. Yes, people, he is dead, but as long as his heart is beating it counts as alive because now he's going to be doing something else. His body, which has been recreated down to every perfection and flaw (you'll get the details next chapter when he meets his new comrades and others and becomes an official Death Angel), would still be functional and alive, even without the beating of his heart. Because the HEART of Innocence IS HIS HEART. So though his body is dead down on earth, the Innocence that is the Heart which is his, is also dead, but transferred to his new (but similar) body of wherever he is now. Oh, and a chart that will be explained next chapter is right here.**

**Death Angels: Exorcists that have not fulfilled a promise and /or humans who still have 'un-cut' connections with the living. They are the ones who go around collecting souls and sending them away to be judged by God. But once their duty and/or promise is fulfilled, they become Guardian Angels.**

**Guardian**** Angels: Angels who guard over a living parson, one for each human, and will be the ones who deliver their souls once dead to the place they will go after judgment. Or, in Allen's case, the ones who place them in the next, new body as a reincarnation of a human or a Death Angel. Death Angel in Allen's case.  
**

**So...be prepared to meet Mercy and Puck next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**The weather was wet, heavy, and Death Angels**

**Summary: What happens to exorcists who have died without fulfilling a promise on the battle field? They become Death Angels…and Allen Walker has joined their ranks.**

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**I no own D. Gray-Man or it's characters, only this plot. Because if I didn't own it, there would be crappy titles, Kanda and Allen would be head over heels for each other while not breaking out of their character, and I wouldn't update that much on it...and then it would eventually fail, because I am not a genius, but the true creator and author of D. Gray-Man is, so, she/he (no one really knows, to be honest, but rumor has it that the author is in fact a 'she')rocks! Oh, and look at my other D. Gray-Man stories, please, much appreciated. Read, enjoy, fav, follow, and review!**

**Oh! And congrats to the first Guest who reviewed and guessed correctly the promise that Allen made to Kanda!**

**Pairing: Yullen, Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker**

**Rating: T**

**Category: D. Gray-Man**

**Angst/Romance**

**WARNING: If you don't like Yaoi…why are you here? Boy/Boy! And I now own anything except plot and a few OCs!**

**Listen to Swedish House Mafia's song, Don't You Worry Child! This chapter and kind of the story is based on this song. Or at least, it matches it perfectly!**

**Chapter 2: Wings of Bone**

Allen opened his eyes, and the first thing he felt and heard was his heart.

It was warm, not with blood, but with light.

_Badum-Badum._

But...then why did he not have the urge to breath? To fill his lungs with air? He tried to do it, but it was slow and sluggish, like trying to breath water. He could do it, but it was slow, and strangely, when he exhaled it let out a small puff of frosted white air, like he was in a chilly climate. Weird, because he felt fairly warm and comfortable, but, his body...

The fingers touching the light thrum of his pulse at his neck, the flesh seemed to be getting steadily cooler and cooler till it stayed at a constant, cold temperature. Refreshing to touch to those who haven't been in a cold climate before, or those that came back from a hot place back to their cold, familiar lands, but not so cold as to bring discomfort or chill.

He lifted himself slowly, curious, but not scared. He was suspended in a dark place, as if wrapped in a void of inky black sky, littered with twinkling stars, some blinking a different color, sitting lightly on a stretch of purplish-white wisps of clouds. It was muted and soft, and when he ran his fingers through it melted away, forming tiny, glittering rain drops, lifting in the air before forming together to become one large rain drop. It bounced in mid air, floating aimlessly, and Allen couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face when he poked one and it jiggled, like it was laughing, before suddenly hollowing out and expanding, becoming a bubble reflecting a glimmer of oily, rainbow color in its surface. But encased in the bubble, there was an image. This image held a girl with long green hair and smiling purple eyes as she laughed.

Allen blinked rapidly and leaned closer. He knew that girl.

He leaned closer and his cool breath frosted it over, coating the surface and freezing it, and suddenly, he couldn't see her anymore. But now, he could _hear _her laughter.

Le...Lena...lee.

Lenalee.

He sat up to kneel and began to drag his fingers through the cloud, over and over again, and soon these raindrops and bubbles formed, each holding a different image, a different person, and each had a different expression. He frosted them over with one last breath of cold air, and he could hear their voices, strangely beautiful despite the different pitches and words. They floated aimlessly above his head, mind racing to figure out what they were, when it suddenly hit him.

Memories. These were his memories.

And he knew those people, had watched them laugh, had watched them cry...had watched them scowl, and watched them smile...had watched them grow and make realizations and memories of their own.

He loved these people. _So _**much.**

And he had died, left them. He suddenly felt ashamed.

"There is no need to feel ashamed," said an unfamiliar feminine voice behind him. It was clear and sliced through his thoughts neatly, but not painfully. He turned to star wide-eyed at a tall thin figure, wrapped securely in a long white cloak with the hood up, a metallic black mask set over her eyes, and when he peered closely at the eye holes, they showed only pure, soft whiteness.

"My name is Mercy," said the girl, and he could hear her smile as she said that. "You will know my name and who I am the day we part, but for now, you will only know my Angels Name. Welcome to Limbo, kid...or should I say, Aaron?"

Allen tilted his head and frowned. "My name isn't Aaron," he said, staring hard. "And how come I don't know who you are when you know who I am?!"

The girl grinned again. "I don't," she replied lightly, steeping closer to him. Allen scrambled to his feet and stood face to face with her, heart beating at a constant rate, even when he tensed for battle. "I can't see your face...only you can see your own face properly."

Allen eyed her quietly. "D-do you have a mirror," he asked.

Mercy laughed and smiled. "Just imagine it, and it will appear." She said.

Allen cast her an incredulous glance and she snorted, waving her hand in the air as a lone mirror with a heavy silver mirror appeared out of a twist in the air above her hand. She grasped the elegantly carved handle and handed it to a shocked Allen, snickering at said expression. Allen licked his lips, feeling suddenly embarrassed as he took he mirror, weighing it as discreetly as possible to see if it actually was real and not a figment of his imagination, before peeking into the reflective, shining glass. What he saw sunned him.

He had the exact same black, metallic mask on that Mercy had, and a similar white cloak as well. However, with the mirror and what little he could see of his eyes, his scar was missing, and his weapon-arm was the same, touched with heavy black, ink-like skin and markings, tattoos, when he held it up. His other arm, unlike the one tattooed, was covered with long black, skin-tight sleeves, and a glove that reminded him of the gloves he wore as Crown Clown. His eyes glowed white though he had a feeling that they still retained his sliver hues. When he fumbled to pull apart his cloak, finding a black body suit, he unzipped the fornt and peeled it back, seeing the scar he had inflicted upon himself long ago. His snow white hair was slicked back **(A/N: Look at when he was pretending to be a street entertainer/clown when Kanda and Johnny were looking for him after Allen ran, and when he comes bursting out of the Akuma's mouth that attacked him with a little girl in his arms).**

With shaking fingers, he zipped the dark body suit back up and pulled the cloak tight around him, staring up at Mercy in surprise.

"H-how...I..." Allen faltered, the froze, and slumped to his knees, for he had stood when he first heard Mercy enter and speak. "I was dead," he whispered, looking down at his hands. A sudden bout of rage washed over him; why couldn't he have a rest for once?! Even in death he was called on and pushed around to be something else he never wanted to be. With a sudden anguished cry, he picked the mirror back up and smashed the surface on the cloud. It shattered, surprisingly, and he ripped out the first, sharp shard he saw and yanked off his glove, before running the sharp ending quickly through the slightly tanned flesh, watching as silver blood bled out, and not red. It was cool to the touch.

Allen sobbed and leaned forward to bury his head in his arms, not even caring when Mercy pried the glass shard from his suddenly limp fingers, wound instantly healing, and patted his back soothingly.

"You made a promise," she said, hand making comforting, warm, circular motion against the small of his back. "And you have yet to fulfill it. This is what all exorcists do when they die and don't fill there promise. They become what is called Death Angels."

Allen sniffled and raised his head- even his tears were cool- and struggled to look Mercy in the eyes. "So, wait...are you an exorcist as well? A...Death Angel?"

The cloak lowered so he could see her thin, pink mouth as it split into a beaming, crooked grin. "Yup," she said happily, pulling back her hand to slug him in the shoulder playfully. "And we have been assigned to be a team, since our goals, our promises, will end up near each other. We can't tell one another our identities or promises until we have to split apart. It's kind of a rule...you'll see. But don't bear a grudge, or be ashamed, or even hate yourself and wonder if something out there hates you to do this to you...because it happened for a reason. You are meant for something, something bigger and more important then anything in this world, right now. Once an exorcist, always an exorcist. Because from what I have heard, Aaron...you are truly loved by God."

_Truly loved by God..._

Allen remembered hearing that somewhere, and he knew that being born on Christmas and being an exorcist wasn't all that big of a coincidence, but he wasn't that religious either. He knew he was meant to defeat the Earl, being the Destroyer of Time, after all, and besides...he didn't remember a promise. Had he made a promise? To whom, when, why, what was it? Was it really that important? Had it just been important to him, or to the person he promised it to? Maybe both, he didn't know.

But it just wasn't _fair._

Even in death he was still in pain, still fighting a war...when will it ever end?

_Keep walking. Never stop walking._

**_Never._**

**"Never," **Allen whispered to himself. "I will keep walking. I..." He looked up at Mercy, and stood up, feeling his muscles coil and stretch, filled with a buzzing, electric amount of energy and power. He could do this. He would keep going, keep fighting, until the very end. Just like Mana had wanted him to.

He would do it for the innocent, for the dead, for the exorcists, for the ones who would later be compatible to Innocence, to save them from the painful fate he had had in all his years carrying Innocence...he would save as many as he could. Save the future. Because, and he knew, that he was apart of their small bundle of light-filled hope that could save them. And he wanted to do it with every fiber of his being, down to the very core of his soul, mind, heart, and body.

"Well! It's about time!"

An unfamiliar voice, male, came ringing through the air, and both Death Angels whirled around to spot a similarly dressed Death Angel with a wide grin and spiked, light brown hair run forward. He skidded to a stop in front of Allen reaching out to pump the boy's hand enthusiastically. "The name's Puck," he said brightly. "I guess you've met Mercy," he stabbed a thumb to the girl who scowled at him, also pulling her hood back to reveal long and thick, bright red hair pulled back into a smooth, yet tight, low ponytail. "Welcome to our little team of Death Angels!"

Allen smiled wryly. "Aaron," he responded lightly, letting go of the other boy's hand. "And I guess I won't know who you truly are until the end, yes?"

Puck cackled, and Allen could almost hear AND feel the male wink at him. "That's right! Bright boy, you are." The he brightened, glowing white eyes flashing even brighter for a moment from pure excitement. "Oh! Oh! Did you get a good look at your wings?!"

Allen's eyes widened and he spun around, craning his neck to look at his back.

Mercy smirked and Puck chuckled, reaching out to tug teasingly on the edge of Allen's pure white cloak. "You have to take it off, kid," he said, amused.

Allen flushed and muttered something inaudible, but eventually slid off his hood and cloak. He didn't notice Puck's eyes shoot to his snow white hair, grow big, then narrow, before going back to his amused state, like nothing happened. Allen slipped off his cloak fully then gaped, open mouthed at his back.

"Wings..." he whispered, raising said wings. They were light, hollow, and tinted grey.

And made completely and only, of pure, sold bone.

"Wings of bone," said Puck, as Mercy nodded. They slipped their own cloaks off and spread their wings of bone, looking ethereal and impossibly intimidating, and beautiful, all at the same time. Their skin tight, black body suits stood out, a plain silver cross encircled by a silver crown was pinned like a badge over their hearts.

"Fitting, yes," said Mercy casually, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes," murmured Allen, feeling a sudden wave of calm and acceptance wash over him. He extended them without a thought. It was out of instinct, like one would flex there wrist or walk without having to think about it, to make movement. Like he had been doing this his whole life.

Or was simply destined for it.

Death Angel. He was a Death Angel.

And he wouldn't hesitate to serve in God's army. To fight, to win, to save.

"Oh, and one more thing," said Puck slowly, studying Allen carefully, but a wicked smile was already worming its way across his lips.

Mercy beat him to it, her own wicked smirk on her face. "We need to teach you how to use a scythe."

...

...

...

_**At the funeral of Allen Walker...**_

The weather was cold, heavy, wet, and the air thick. There was only silence.

The graveyard was on a small plot of land behind the new Black Order Headquarters. It was tiny, but that was to be guessed, since they cremated the bodies there before scattering the ashes into the wind. The headstones of exorcists stood still and quiet, as if even the dead was mourning Allen Walker.

Lenalee and Lavi stood side by side, dressed in black. The Finders hung back, also dressed in black, tears streaming more freely down their faces than the exorcists or the supervisor and his watch dog Link, who stood in silence, but there was remorse in his usually emotionless eyes. Lenalee cried silently, eyes dull and dead as she stared straight ahead, Lavi by her side staring with a single cold, flat eyes, never looking away from the coffin that held his best friend's body. It was disturbing to see so many people crying...and yet in death Allen was still smiling, or at least, looked peaceful. They didn't have to even touch him in the slightest to arrange the peacefulness in his face.

Kanda hated it.

Garbed in his exorcist uniform, he stood off to the side, staring down the coffin's precious cargo. He lied. He didn't keep his promise. The little fucker-

Kanda knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help but feel wounded that Allen, the great Promisor of Promises, had broken an impossible promise to him. And still he was smiling, even in death. Kanda had respect for the dead and their bodies, but never had he wanted to kick Allen Walker's limp, cold form more.

Damn child.

Naïve.

Stupid.

Idiot.

Kanda's eyes burned and he looked to the sky.

Leverrier was the first to speak;

"I suggest we should not cremate him."

Shocked silence was all that there was, as everyone, even Link, shot the supervisor incredulous looks. Kanda froze, ice filling his veins, before it was chased away with boiling blood of rage. He began to shake in fury.

"Wh...what are you saying, Sir," Link stuttered. He _never_ stuttered. "But- Sir! Allen Walker was an exorcist who died fighting and as such, deserves to have his body cremated. It is a rule!" His voice sharpened at the end, cold blue eyes never leaving the calm, undisturbed face of Leverrier.

"He is no use to us of now," said the older man coolly, eyes locked on Allen's pale body. "We must see inside if there is anything about the 14th's current situation. Did he die along with Walker, or did something else happen? Will he awake within Allen's dead body? We shall dissect the body for scientific reasons then sew it back up and leave it in a specialized room for a week. There, we will see if the Noah will truly come back. If not, then since the body will already be decaying, it will simply be buried instead of wasting energy cremating it."

Everyone was to horrified to say anything, except for one person.

**"You fucking son of a bitch."**

Leverrier turned to the person who spoke and soon found himself flat on his back, pain blossoming along his now broken jaw, blood bleeding through his teeth and lips. The mud was cold against his back, seeping through his clothes, as if trying to punish him.

Kanda Yuu stood above him, dark eyes almost black. His own jaw was clenched, a muscle jumping in it, hands balled up into fists and he trembled. Not with cold, but with blinding rage.

"You bitch," he spat again, advancing. "How fucking dare you? Allen meant more to everyone than you could ever own up! He was a better man than you, and still is, even in death! And I won't allow you to lay one greasy finger of yours on his body, or any one of your cronies. He isn't some interesting, exotic insect you can screw around with, either dead or alive. He was a human being with more feelings and compassion than you will ever have! Mark my words, bastard...one day, you are going to realize this. you are going to realize that you need us more than just as tools. You're going to need us as _people. _And when that day comes, no one will help you. No one is going to come up and try to save you because of what you've fucking done to them, to everyone. They are going to leave you, one by one, until you are all alone in the dark with nothing for company except your regrets and words. You're full of shit, Leverrier. What have you ever done for us that helped us except rule over us like a tyrant, using us like tools and objects and weapons of mass destruction that continue to wear out as the war rages on. Allen Walker was the sharpener and polish for the weapons, and now that he is gone, and you don't even care, there is no on there to sharpen us for battle. So when you're about to face your demise, think on this; you didn't take care of your weapons like I take care of Mugen, so we won't defend you. Allen Walker was, is, and will forever be the one to help us win, even if only in memory. So you better treat him with some respect, dead or not, or I swear to the god you pretend to represent I will make sure your Judgment Day will come early this year!"

Leverrier breathed heavily, slowly getting to his feet. "Mr. Kanda Yuu," he breathed, face turning red. "Are you threatening me?"

"No," said Kanda firmly, eyes dark and deadly. "It's a promise."

"You have no one to back you," the dark-mustached man spat, only to freeze and stare with shocked, wide eyes as all the exorcists, and even the Finders, moved to stand behind Kanda in a show of strength, courage, and support. link closed his eyes and stepped gracefully away from the supervisor, face unreadable, but eyes flashing.

_He would not defend this man._

"Leave," said Komui.

Leverrier looked outraged. Throwing one last look of utter disgust, hatred, and contempt, to Kanda, he left swiftly, wiping his bloody mouth. Link lingered for a moment, locking eyes with Kanda and nodding once in acknowledgement, before laving as well in a much slower pace. For once, since Allen's death, Kanda allowed himself to smile, albeit grimly. He had one more ally, but an even more hated enemy.

**_Let the three sided war begin._**

**_..._**

**_..._**

**_.._**

**_._**

**Lord, Leverrier is such a fucking ass. I know he's trying to do what he thinks best, but he's doing it all wrong! He's using the history from the book _The Prince, _which talks about how to gain power any way necessary and how to keep it any way necessary. Gah! I hate him I hate him I hate him! **

**But I love Link. I shall marry him the day Kanda and Allen have their first wedding anniversary. Yes. Yes, that's a good plan. ;{D**

**Death Angels: Exorcists that have not fulfilled a promise and /or humans who still have 'un-cut' connections with the living. They are the ones who go around collecting souls and sending them away to be judged by God. But once their duty and/or promise is fulfilled, they become Guardian Angels.**

**Guardian**** Angels: Angels who guard over a living parson, one for each human, and will be the ones who deliver their souls once dead to the place they will go after judgment. Or, in Allen's case, the ones who place them in the next, new body as a reincarnation of a human or a Death Angel. Death Angel in Allen's case. Sometimes, Death Angels will be blessed to be Guardian Angels, but it isn't very often.  
**


End file.
